Hot Tin Roof
by cupsofteaandbooks
Summary: Secret meetings on the roof, a fantastic idea for a game and a father who does not approve at all. Can the annoying boy next door get a kiss?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Splinters and Jenga**

"Hold still."

"I _am _holding still. You've got hold of my face."

"Stop complaining."

"Stop telling me what to do."

"_Blaine._"

"_Kurt."_

Kurt rolled his eyes. The sun was just setting over the adjoining roofs, basking the pair in an off-yellow glow. Kurt was busily attempting to drag what could have been an entire tree out of Blaine's hair.

"Where have you been? Ow!" Kurt sucked a splinter out of his finger. "_Seriously? _Could you at least brush your hair? I mean, just gelling it down doesn't make it neat! Where have you been?"

Blaine chuckled. He was knelt in-between Kurt's legs and trying to read "Cat On A Hot Tin Roof" so he could write a 2,000 word essay on it for Mr. Ericson's class tomorrow. Kurt tugged at his hair again and Blaine winced. The sticks were a product of an ingenious game of 'Blaine Jenga' in which Cooper had attempted to see how many sticks he could fit in Blaine's curls before they all fell out. 31, as it happened.

"There, last one!" Kurt ruffled Blaine's curls before standing up and stretching. "That book seems fitting."

"You're not a cat."

"And the roof isn't tin!" Kurt exclaimed with mock astonishment. Blaine threw a stick at him.

"You going in?"

"You can put those puppy dog eyes on as much as you want Anderson, I can't stay on this roof all night."

Blaine stood up and took a step toward Kurt, "Can I have a kiss then?"

"Nope."

"It might help me think about this essay!"

"It won't."

"It might!"

"It won't." Kurt smirked. This was his favourite game. "I'll see you tomorrow!" He walked to the edge of the roof before elegantly swinging himself through his bedroom window. He watched Blaine blow him an exaggerated kiss before tugging his blind down. God, Blaine was annoying. A stupid over-confident private-school boy who knocked on his window every night and dragged him away from his homework. He phone buzzed.

_**From Rachel: So, roof rendezvous tonight?**_

He threw his phone onto his bed before flopping down after it. She knew him 100% too well.

Blaine climbed back through his own window, pulling a small stick out of his fringe that Kurt had missed. He pulled his shirt off, it was still his school shirt actually, and threw it into the wash basket before heading for the shower.

"Blaine!" He heard his father call from downstairs. He remained silent. "Blaine!" He sighed.

"Yeah Dad?"

"You've not been… you've not done… you've not been out on the roof… li – like I asked."

Blaine pressed his head against the bathroom door, closed his eyes and breathed heavily. "No Dad."


	2. 30 Days Earlier

**30 days earlier:**

"Shut up Finn."

Kurt slammed the door in his step-brother's face and looked gloomily around his new room. It was the very top room in the new house. 'The skylight room', as Burt had put it, or 'the dingy old attic' as Kurt had put it. It was big though, he had to admit, and it could be quite stunning if he put some work into it. The old rafters were on show and the walls were curved, leaning into a large window that opened onto the roof. Holding his hands as high as they would go, which turned out to be just a few centimetres above his head, he rested each hand on a rafter. Goosebumps ran up his arms and he shivered, it was quite cold up here really. He looked down at his feet and sighed heavily, the room was nice, but it wasn't his room. If nothing else, the altitude was completely different to his cosy room in the basement, he felt as though he should be gasping for breath in the thinning air. Kurt reached into one of the boxes marked 'clothes' and pulled out a dressing gown – this room was freezing. Finn was galumphing around the house like a rhinoceros, probably looking for some cheese or raw meat, or whatever cavemen ate these days. God, it really was cold. He put his hand on the radiator. It was on.

"The problem is… your window's open."

Kurt jumped so violently that he hit his knee on the edge of the radiator and banged his head on one of the rafters. He reeled for a moment, attempting to see where the voice had come from while hopping around his room on one foot. The uncontrollable laughter coming from the windowsill echoed around the hollow room, forcing Kurt to stare with deep loathing at the figure that now slid into his room.

"Blaine", the other boy said, holding his hand out.

Kurt simply gawped at the boy who stood opposite him.

"I didn't mean to scare you. _Fantastic_ reaction though. Kudos."

"W-wh-what… how…who…what the hell are you doing in my room?" Kurt finally managed to blurt out, with a little less control than he was aiming for. "Where did you come from? Are you real?"

Blaine smirked at the dazed look on the other's face. "You know, I think what you should really be doing is ringing the police, or, at least shouting your parents. I mean, I did just break into your house."

"Yeah, I probably should."

"But you're not."

Kurt opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to think of a witty reply. Wait, why was he trying to think of a witty reply? This guy could be a murderer. Or a burglar, or anything… He looked at the boy that had silently crept into his room. He was reasonably short, with slick, gelled black hair. Although a few curls were escaping at the front. He had thick, dark eyelashes. And eyebrows so triangular it might have been comical if Kurt hadn't just noticed that the boy that had crept into his room wasn't wearing a shirt. Kurt couldn't help but look.

"Are you checking me out Hummel?"

Kurt started again, alarmed. "How do you know my name?"

"Relax Inspector Clouseau; you've got it monogrammed into your dressing gown."

"Oh."

'Oh?' that was the best he could do? Oh? He was quicker than this. He could make anyone in New Directions damn near cry with just with a haughty glare, and 'oh' was what his brain had found. He backtracked; again, witty remarks shouldn't be highest on his list of priorities right now.

"So, can I get a name or am I just going to have to call you K. Hummel? Sounds a bit business-like."

Kurt straightened. "Kurt, my name's Kurt. And, judging by your attire, either Finn has gotten me a male stripper or you really are just an obnoxious jerk."

Blaine bit the side of his lip and his eyes flashed with a wickedness that Kurt couldn't quite figure out. He paced over to Kurt and performed a small circle around him before walking back to the window and pulling himself out. He turned, his lip curled, "I wouldn't knock anyone's fashion sense in that dressing gown, I might just be tempted to invite you on a hunt."

Kurt growled defensively.

"Until tomorrow Kurt!" The last three words were uncharacteristically cheerful.

"I wouldn't count on it!" Kurt yelled after him.

Kurt was attempting to finish his Spanish homework. He didn't much care for Spanish. He didn't much care for Mr. Shue's teaching but that was by-the-by. The real news was that he'd managed to convince Burt to set the television up in his room so he wouldn't miss the documentary on 'Broadway Stars' that night. Three knocks on his window echoed through his room, clear as a bell. He sighed loud enough so he knew Blaine would hear him.

"I see you left your window open." A quiet voice came from the rooftop.

"I see you learnt how manners work."

"Is that an actual sentence?"

"Shut up."

"Touchy."

"I'll close the window."

"You should. You have no idea who I am."

"You have no idea who I am."

"Touché. Come out?"

Kurt marched over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he found himself face to face and far too close to Blaine. He has gorgeous eyes. The thought flashed through his mind like a lightning bolt, leaving Kurt slightly stunned.

"Are you coming inspector?" Blaine held out his hand to pull Kurt onto the roof. Kurt declined and pushed himself through the window, rather ungracefully.

"For someone so dainty, you could have more poise." Blaine smirked at him.

"Oh, if you make one more remark, I will take you to Isengard personally." Kurt retorted, now fashioning a delicate shade of fuchsia.

Kurt almost thought he saw Blaine look taken aback, as if he was trying to figure out the insult, but he wasn't quite sure. Anything to wipe the stupid smug look off his face. Blaine navigated Kurt to a small blanket underneath the chimneys which was covered in oil stains.

"Do you come up here often then, or is the blanket especially for me?" Kurt remarked, his eyes wandering reproachfully over the chosen seating spot. The other boy laughed at the obvious revulsion on Kurt's face. "Wait here". Leaving Kurt stood awkwardly on the rooftop; he clambered back through his own window. Kurt was surprised by how warm the summer air was, although there was a whisper of rain in the clouds. The view was breath-taking. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was actually in Ohio anymore. It felt as though they'd stepped out onto the roof and accidently found themselves on an entirely different planet. He half expected the TARDIS to appear.

"There you are fussy," the voice from behind snapped Kurt back into the real world. How did Blaine manage to be so quiet? It was unreal, like being on the roof with a cat. The cat-boy was laying a clean, white towel next to the oily blanket. "Well, sit down then!"

It was midnight when Kurt finally shut his window and shuffled into bed. _Three_ hours he'd been on the roof with that moron. As he was settling into his temporary mattress fort he could have sworn he could hear a guitar being played from across the roof.

**To Rachel: I missed the Broadway Stars show tonight. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – blazers and bowties**

I do _not _have feelings for Blaine Anderson! Read my lips Rachel," Kurt ordered, "Never. Going. To. Happen. He's not my type. He'll never be my type. He's an idiot. A blazer-wearing, self-absorbed idiot. I can hardly stand the sight of him an-"

Rachel cut him off with a snort. "You know he wears a blazer?"

Blaine was late. Three hours, ten minutes and fifty-six seconds late to be precise. To be too precise. Three hours, eleven minutes. Kurt threw himself face down onto his bed, trying to decide whether he was more worried about Blaine or annoyed that it was midnight and he was still waiting. No, that definitely wasn't what had happened; there had been a really interesting article in Vogue abou-

"Kurt! Kurt! Are you asleep?"

Kurt flipped around, resembling a sea lion slightly more than he would have preferred, and was met with a soaking wet Blaine Anderson.

"Knew you wouldn't be." Blaine smirked, his voice openly smug.

"Is it raining?"

"Were you waiting up for me?"

"Is it raining?"

"Not really. Did you miss me?"

"Really, really no."

"Sure. Coming out inspector?"

"Are you going to insist on calling me that?"

"Probably"

"No then."

"I could call you Juliet?"

"Inspired."

"I'll get in your bed again."

"_Fine!"_ Kurt relented and, rejecting Blaine's hand, pulled himself out onto the roof. It was raining ever so slightly, but definitely not enough to drench someone. Observing Blaine properly for the first time, he noticed that although his hair was curling from the water, it had clearly been previously gelled. His wet shirt clung to his stomach, outlining every muscle. Kurt felt his throat tighten a little. A pair of shiny black shoes caked in mud rested on the rooftop, a scrunched up bow tie stuffed into the left one. It was raining harder now. He must have been studying the shoes longer than he'd thought as Blaine had appeared back through his own window, more cat-like than ever without shoes on, Kurt hadn't even noticed him leave. He was holding two mugs of coffee.

"Grande non-fat mocha for the lady."

"Hilarious you know? Just hilari- you know how I take my coffee?"

"I know a lot of things. Like, did you know the Eiffel tower is 6 inches shorter in winter? It shrinks in the cold."

"Is that what happens to you then?"

Blaine shoved him so forcefully; it caused the mug of coffee to fly from his hands and cascade, along with the rain, onto Blaine's head. Kurt spluttered and clapped his hands to his mouth, attempting to cover his laughter as a violent cough. Unsuccessfully. Blaine glowered at him.

"Oh come here," Kurt pulled out the towel he was sat on and pulled Blaine towards him. Still trying very hard not to laugh he massaged the towel against Blaine's coffee stained hair. It was one of those strange moments on the roof, that seemed to be occurring more and more often, where Kurt found himself running his hands through Blaine's hair. In these moments, he would catch Blaine's eyes and find himself a little lost, if only for a second. He shook his head.

"Why are you so wet anyway?"

For the first time since they'd met, Blaine looked unsettled. "I had an argument with my dad."

"In the bath?" Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself.

Blaine's smile returned and his eyes flashed with the wickedness that made Kurt both highly uneasy and entirely captivated. "Yeah, there's only one rubber duck between us. Now, the real point to be made here is, you've been basically sat on me for about five minutes, I call that progress."

As much as Kurt would have liked to pursue the matter of the argument, he settled for poking him in the eye with the towel instead.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

"Really? What a shame."

Blaine attempted to shove him again, but Kurt caught hold of his arms, and caught sight of his watch. "Oh my _God, _is that the time, I have to go! I have rehearsals for sectionals in the morning!"

"So? Me too."

Kurt looked at him in surprise, "you're a Warbler?"

"I'm a Warbler."

"You can sing?"

"I like to think so."

"But we're competing next week!"

"I know."

"You know?"

Blaine pulled a pamphlet out of his back pocket containing the entire set list for sectionals. He ran his finger down the page. "See, Warblers, New Directions, Hipsters."

"Well I knew the Warblers were competing, but I didn't know you were! You never said!"

"You never asked."

"Oh God, Rachel's going to see you."

Blaine raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Kurt waved it away.

"Why are you all dressed up anyway?"

Blaine's face suddenly dropped. "You're right, it's getting cold. You better go in."

"Blaine!"

His father's voice rang from outside his room the moment his window clicked shut. He walked over to his bedroom door wearily to greet the bright red face waiting for him on the other side.

"Yes Dad?"

"Don't you 'yes Dad' me. I know you've been out there! You've already fucked up once today. You are not seeing him again."

"You don't even know who he _is!" _Blaine replied unsteadily.

"I don't care who _he is," _he said the word 'he' with such disgust that Blaine winced. "If you ever go on that roof again, I will kick you out."

"Fine! Do it!" Blaine was shouting now.

A sudden smug malice came over his father's face. "No, you know what, if you ever go out on that roof again. I will make sure he never sees you again."

Blaine was shaking with anger. His father had won.


	4. Two Weeks Earlier

**Two Weeks Earlier**

Blaine opened his eyes blearily. He was vaguely aware that he was being hit with something, but he couldn't quite register what it was. It was too early anyway. He pulled the duvet over his face. Whatever was hitting him was very persistent. Ouch. Very persistent. He pulled the duvet back and was met with Kurt slapping him with a very heavy algebra book. Ah, now he remembered.

"Good morning sunshine!" Blaine smiled.

"Good morning? Good _morning. _Are you _aware_ what time it is? You're in my bed. Stop stealing my window keys. GET OUT."

"That's a lot to process this early."

Kurt sighed forcefully and continued to hit him with the book.

"Alright, alright! I'll get out. Or…"

Kurt hit him again.

"No! Hear me out. Or, you could get in too."

At this point, a worried Burt ran up the stairs and shouted, "are you alright son?" through the door. Kurt had pushed Blaine out of the bed, and he was now lying in a messy pile on the floor. "Yeah dad, I just dropped something dense."

"Oh, ha ha." Blaine groaned.

"What were you doing in my bed anyway?"

"You weren't here."

Blaine arrived at Kurt's window at the usual time only to find Kurt wasn't at his desk struggling through a mound of homework as was the norm. He spent a couple of minutes debating whether he should just go home or whether he should wait. And eventually arrived at the decision that what he would actually do would be to get into Kurt's bed and surprise him when he returned. He used the window key he'd stolen yesterday, quietly pushed open the window and slithered into Kurt's bedroom.

"You were longer than expected, I just fell asleep."

"You're an idiot."

"Where were you?"

"At Rachel's."

"Who's Rachel?"

An hour later Kurt and Blaine were back in Kurt's bed, watching The Little Mermaid and discussing what they would do if they possessed super powers.


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Competitive Arguing**

**To Rachel: He's not here.**

**From Rachel: Again?**

**To Rachel: Again.**

**From Finn: Do you guys have to text? She's like a floor below you dude. **

**To Rachel: Come up? **

Kurt was led on the floor of his bedroom, looking not dissimilar from a starfish and glaring at his window. It was raining again. 'Pathetic fallacy' he thought, and then kicked himself. He was _not _miserable because Blaine hadn't shown up for the fourth night running. Besides, it was always raining. Rachel appeared around the doorway. She eyed Kurt up and down for a moment before walking over to him and shoving her foot into his stomach.

"Kurt Hummel. Sectionals are tomorrow. Your NYADA audition is in 4 weeks. You're not even going to be here in 4 months. Will you get a grip?"

This had happened once before, two months ago, and Kurt had forgotten how painful it was. After several minutes of rolling around on the floor Kurt pulled himself up onto his bed, keeping a wary distance from his best friend.

"Is it _imperative _that you do that?"

Rachel shrugged, "got you up didn't it?"

Kurt scowled. Unfortunately, Rachel was the only person other than Blaine that wasn't intimidated by Kurt's perfectly shaped eyebrows.

**From Rachel: just go! Sectionals is in 10 hours and I need to sleep. **

It was midnight when Kurt finally made the decision. It was midnight when Kurt finally let himself realise that hate was probably not the only thing he felt for Blaine Anderson. He wasn't sure exactly what the feeling was, he wasn't ruling out hate altogether, but he knew he missed the face appearing at the window every night. Four weeks is a long time when you're eighteen. Burt was snoring in the bedroom below the attic. Or Carol was snoring, Kurt didn't like to ask. The fact he could hear noises from his father's bedroom was a source of great distress to him and he didn't particularly want to draw anyone else's attention to the fact. He had no shoes. Well, he had slippers, but it was raining and the thought of his Vivienne Westwood slippers getting wet was enough to make him cry. Kurt had made the decision to knock on Blaine's window. He slid out of bed and tip-toed across to the window and as with so many other nights pulled himself out onto the roof. It seemed strangely different without Blaine. Normally, the roof had an air of sanctuary to it; tonight it just seemed like a roof. The wind howled over the houses, Kurt shivered and pulled his dressing gown tightly around him, suddenly regretting his new found spontaneity. He walked unsteadily to Blaine's window, his heart thudding against his ribcage. How had Blaine done this with such confidence the first time he had slid himself into Kurt's room? With every step, his heartbeat grew louder and louder until he was sure Blaine would have been able to hear him coming if he was in Africa. He rested his shaking hands against Blaine's window sill, attempting to find the courage that had been building in him all evening. He'd left it in bed apparently. He took a deep breath and knocked on the window three times, as quietly as possible.

He waited for several minutes before a bleary eyed, bushy haired Blaine stuck his head through the window. "Kurt?" he said croakily, "hang on, let me get my glasses."

"You wear glasses? Since when?"

"Since always, just a minute."

Blaine disappeared back into his room and Kurt remained on the roof, shivering, wondering if the Anderson family were aware of the term 'hospitality'. Blaine reappeared wearing a pair of thickly framed glasses. "Right, oh, hi, there you are."

"You look adorable with glasses on, why don't you wear them more?"

"I think you answered your own question there."

"Grumpy."

"Is there any particular reason you're here?"

Kurt was taken aback by this reaction. There was no humour in Blaine's voice – the question was entirely genuine. "Well, I was… I was just wondering where you'd been this past couple of days."

"I've been… erm, I've been busy."

"Liar." Kurt replied. He wasn't stupid. He knew Blaine hadn't been busy, he'd heard the familiar sound of Blaine playing his guitar late at night. "What are you lying for?"

"I'm _not _lying okay? Will you just go away?" Blaine was looking anxiously towards his bedroom door, as if there was something behind it he was afraid of. He looked back at Kurt, "please?"

The rain thundered over the roof harder than ever, each drop felt like a needle, pricking Kurt every time they hit him.

"Look, you're soaking, please just go home." The fear in Blaine's voice was getting more and more obvious. Kurt reached out and touched Blaine's arm, who yanked his own away, as if Kurt was made of fire. Kurt blinked rapidly. "What's changed? What's happened?"

"Nothing."

"Please, I can help. What's happened?"

"Nothing!" Blaine bellowed, frustration rising in his voice, "will you just leave!"

Kurt straightened up, he could tell there was something wrong with Blaine, he wanted to hold onto that knowledge. But right now all Kurt felt was hurt and angry, "fine. I'll go. But don't you dare act like I'm being irrational here Blaine. Don't you dare. I can't believe I even… whatever."

Kurt stormed away back to his own room. Blaine slid the window shut behind him and watched as the dark shadow of his father's feet disappeared from under his door

Kurt fell into his seat. Unfortunately, he'd managed to find himself perched in the middle of Mr. Schuester and Miss. Pillsbury. As far away from Rachel as was possible and stuck with the obnoxiously bad flirting passed between the two teachers. The Hipster's performance wasn't bad, but it was nothing special. It was quite inspirational, Kurt supposed, that these old people were still interested in singing, but all they really seemed to represent was lost hope. He rolled his eyes; he was even depressing himself now. Peering over the back of his seat at Rachel he could see she was watching the performance intently, mouthing the lyrics. He smiled slightly. The Hipsters swayed on stage for another couple of songs and then the curtains drew and darkness fell. Kurt wriggled out of his seat and crawled under the legs of his teammates until he reached Rachel, who was busily telling Finn every single choreography problem the Hipster's had had. Finn, needless to say, was staring absent-mindedly at Rachel's chest and nodding every few seconds.

"Rachel!" Kurt whispered from the floor.

"Kurt? Sit down! It's about start."

"Not important. Listen, it's really important that we win."

Rachel gave Kurt her 'remember who you're talking to' look and pointed him back to his seat. Grudgingly, Kurt crawled back to his seat and made rude gestures to Rachel under cover of darkness.

And then the Warblers came on, their backs to the audience. As the lights went up, Kurt could just about make Blaine's silhouette out amongst all the uniform clad boys. The music started. The Warblers turned and Blaine started to sing. Kurt's mouth fell open. Never in a million years had he expected Blaine to be the _lead _soloist, hell; he hadn't even expected him to be good. But here he was, Blaine Anderson, irritatingly amazing at everything. Every note he sang hung in the air for a few seconds as if taunting Kurt. Small shivers ran down his spine, as well as some other areas of his body he would have preferred not to have reacted. His body was letting him down as usual. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rachel trying to get his attention but, to his intense annoyance, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the blazer wearing idiot on stage. Luckily, Mr. Shue hurried them away to their dressing room before the Warblers' performance could influence Kurt's wayward hormones any more. Rachel caught him up as he walked unsteadily away from the auditorium, "that was Blaine wasn't it?"

Kurt nodded, not quite trusting his voice to have returned to a suitable octave.

The New Directions performance flew by. The crowd applauded Rachel's jaw dropping performance as per and Kurt remained a minimal part. Normally, he didn't mind being second best to Rachel and Finn. He loved watching Rachel sing and well, Finn annoyed him, but brothers are supposed to be annoying. But today, he wished he could have been graced with a bigger part, simply so he could have shown off his own talent. He did not want to be outdone by Blaine Anderson. It did however give him opportunity to scan the crowd. Blaine watched him intently throughout the entire performance.

"You were good."

Kurt whirled around and found himself, like so many other times, face to face with Blaine Anderson. Kurt looked him up and down, his eyes filled with utter contempt. "I'm aware, we won."

The warbler smiled his oh so charming smile, "I think you're meant to say 'so were you'."

"Well why the hell should I Blaine? You made it quite clear last night that you wanted nothing to do with my opinions!" The anger overtook him suddenly, his face glowing red.

"You know that's not true! You know… you know that's not true."

"No Blaine. I don't. Because you know we've only known each other what? Four, five weeks and all I've done is reject your stupid advances. Because I'm _clever_ Blaine," hot tears were rising now, "I'm clever and I know what you're like. I know who you are. You're that guy; you're the guy who every single person in this whole place wants to be. And you wanted me and I hated everything you are. I hate every single thing you're pretending to be. But sometimes we're on that roof and you look at me with those eyes, those stupid, gorgeous eyes. And the one time, the one time I decide to let my guard down, you… fuck!" Kurt's voice gave out.

"It's not like that!"

"Well what _is _it like?"

"I just can't!" Blaine shouted.

"What are you so afraid of!"

Blaine looked at him, the exasperation in his eyes merely weariness now. "Everything."

Kurt walked over to Blaine. They looked at each other for a moment; Kurt's body was still radiating frustration. "Liar," he growled. He could feel Blaine's heart pounding against him, every muscle quivering slightly. Kurt leaned in and pressed his lips against Blaine's.

And the world froze.


	6. Chapter 4

**Rude Awakenings**

***beep beep* *beep beep***

Kurt groaned and rolled over to press the snooze button on his alarm. He waved his arm vaguely in the air for a few moments before realising his clock wasn't there. He opened his eyes blearily.

"Gah!"

Rachel was leering over him, the ringing alarm clock in her hands. "And a good morning to you sleepy head, what were you dreaming about hmm?"

"Go away you lecherous creep", Kurt growled pulling the pillow over his head. Rachel yanked the pillow off him and fell into the bed, "tell me what happened!"

Kurt smiled to himself, the kiss.

_And the world froze._

_The room seemed to swirl around them; they were the centre of this universe. Everything else was in a rush and they were still, cemented in this moment in time. The kiss was urgent at first, anxious. Kurt had been confident when he'd pulled Blaine into him but it faded almost instantly. But Blaine put his hands on Kurt's waist to hold him steady while Kurt wrapped his around Blaine's shoulders. The kiss grew longer, Blaine's hands trailed up to Kurt's hair. His tongue just grazing Kurt's lips, and then his teeth. Kurt's hands found the bottom of Blaine's shirt and began to trace the delicate line of hair. _

"_So, Mr. Schuester, can we discuss your team's plans for the next event?"_

_A voice in the hallway forced them to pull apart. "You are phenomenal", Blaine said, grinning against Kurt's neck. _

"Nothing happened Rachel".

Kurt was ready at around nine for Blaine to come tapping on his window. Maybe finish what they started yesterday. But he didn't come. Kurt stared at his clock, and then back to the window. What was happening? He was pretty sure they'd established their genuine liking for each other last night. Or was it just lust on his part? No. Absolutely not. Definitely not. Probably not. Kurt glanced at the clock again, eleven, he wasn't coming. He slammed the window shut and locked it. He thought about throwing the key away but decided against it.

There was a tapping at the window. Kurt opened his eyes weakly. Still dark. No looming Rachel. What's happening? The tapping persisted. Kurt switched on his bedside light and looked towards the source of the noise.

"Blaine?" he looked at his clock, "it's two in the morning?"

Blaine smiled apologetically and tapped on the window again, very softly.

"Alright, alright, I'm letting you in." Kurt hastily pulled on his dressing gown and unlocked the window and let a shivering Blaine collapse into his bedroom.

"S-s-s-sorry ab-b-b-out how l-l-late I am, it was the only time I c-c-could come".

It was only now that Kurt realised what a state Blaine was in, the angry speech he had prepared vanished immediately. He was wearing his glasses but Kurt could see his eyes were bloodshot and there was a small cut on his left cheek. Kurt brushed it with his finger, "what happened?"

Blaine put his hand on his cheek, "oh"; he attempted his cheeky grin but only managed a grimace, "you know, arguing about the rubber ducks again".

Kurt took off his dressing gown and wrapped it around the still shivering Blaine, "your dad did that?"

Blaine looked up at him with horror, "he just gets a bit mad when he's had a drink you know, it's nothing serious." There was nothing but sheer desperation in his voice.

"Okay, sure", Kurt smiled, this was not a conversation to have at two in the morning, "do you want to stay here for a while?"

Blaine nodded faintly and allowed himself to be pulled into Kurt's bed. It was unbearable for Kurt to be so close to Blaine and not get to touch him, to feel the muscles underneath his t-shirt, to make him purr like he had at the competition. To be called phenomenal.

A sleepy voice came from next to him, "I knew you'd fall in love with me one of these days Inspector."

"You're the worst Romeo ever".


End file.
